This just sort of came to me while re-watching the S6 premiere today and I had to write it down. It wasn't planned but I have a few ideas for it - it's my take on the Campbells and Sam working together (Dean will come into it, too, as per canon). I will admit, I haven't really liked the canon Campbells so far and decided to change my own mind on them by putting a bit of a spin on Mark's situation.

CHAPTER 1 - They're a Damn Shady Bunch

He stepped through the dirty glass door of the diner, immediately taking note of the two other exits as well as its few, lonely patrons. Two men sat at the counter, long haulers if the trucker caps and the two rigs parked outside were any indication. Neither bothered to turn around as he entered but the tired-looking waitress gave him a half-hearted smile, the old man in the front booth spared him a quick disinterested glance, and the young man wearing cook's whites slid off his stool with a sigh and strolled reluctantly back to the kitchen, clearly figuring his services would soon be needed if the newcomer was to order food.

A hunter, he took the booth at the back, sliding into the bench seat against the wall where he could keep his eye on the rest of the room. The waitress finished wiping the counter with a stained, dirty cloth before picking up a small notepad and heading over in his direction, swatting at a fly buzzing past her head as she approached.

This place was a dump, he thought. Even by his low standards. He drummed his fingers nervously on the table, scanning the parking lot again in hopes of seeing Brand, the hunter he was supposed to be meeting here. He gave the waitress a small nod of greeting and ordered a cheeseburger with fries before turning his attention back outside, running his hand through his short, blond hair in apprehension.

He was halfway through his meal and growing agitated before he saw a van pull up and the familiar figure of an older man exit the driver's side.

Brand. Finally.

But then two other men, men he didn't know, stepped out of the van also and accompanied his old friend towards the diner. He shifted uneasily in his seat, repositioning the knife in the sheath hidden at the small of his back. He hadn't expected strangers. He didn't particularly like strangers, especially other hunters. Already on edge by Brand's mysterious phone request that they meet in person in this out-of-the-way grease pit, he gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath as they headed over.

"Mark," Brand greeted him solemnly with a nod. "This is Harnell and Bodger." He gestured to the two other men, both in their fifties, and slid into the booth across from the younger man.

"What's going on, Brand?" Mark demanded with a frown, scooting over as Bodger seated himself next to him and Harnell planted himself next Brand. Damnit, he was boxed in.

"We need your help," Bodger blurted.

He sounded friendly enough but Mark simply glowered in his direction before turning his gaze back to Brand, an eyebrow raised in question.

Brand shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, son," he said. "I know you don't know these guys but they knew your father."

"Yeah, Gary was a good man," Harnell offered. "Hell of a hunter."

Mark didn't acknowledge the compliment and kept his eyes trained on Brand.

His old friend sighed. "Mark, you hear about the Winchester kid's return from the pit?" he asked.

"Which one?" was his sarcastic reply.

"The younger one. Sam."

Mark nodded. Every hunter in the country had heard about that, even the loners like him. Word had traveled even faster than when the older brother had been pulled out, that jailbreak supposedly having been executed by angels. Mark wasn't even remotely convinced that was true.

"Turns out, the same day he was pulled out of Hell, his grandfather was pulled out of Heaven.," Brand continued.

Mark arched an eyebrow. He hadn't heard that part.

"And now, Grandpa's apparently running around gathering up hunters to join him. They've setup a compound, kept under total lockdown. Nobody outside his tightlipped little club gets in or out and they're a damn shady bunch."

He looked at Mark expectantly. Mark just shrugged. "And?"

"And we need to know what's going on in there," Brand supplied. "There's strange stuff been going on in the Supernatural world these days and I got a nasty feeling they know something about it only they're not sharing. Samuel's their leader and he won't let in anyone that he doesn't approve of. Seems to be keeping it in the family but somethin' ain't right. He's teamed up with his newly-resurrected grandson Sam Winchester and they've got quite the racket going on. Rumor has it they're capturing creatures. Not killing them, capturing them."

"Yeah," Bodger interjected. "It's common knowledge the rules 'bout monsters have gone to pot since the Winchesters dodged the supposed Apocalypse. Vamps in daylight, Wendigos in cities. Weres at half-moon. But what the hell are they keeping them alive for? Somethin's hokey."

Mark took it all in and although he found it troubling, kept his expression blank. "And?" he said again.

"And we need to know what this guy's up to." Brand sat back in his chair as the waitress came back over and asked if the newcomers were eating also.

"No, miss. Just three beers, please," Brand told her politely, keeping quiet until she was out of earshot again, when he quickly turned back to Mark. "There's a lot of us who are suspicious," he said, nodding to the two others at the table. "But we can't get anywhere near Grandpa Samuel coz we're not family and the guy's got trust issues."

"Okay, but what do you need me for?" Mark asked, not following.

"We need someone we can trust on the inside," Brand divulged.

"Thought you had to be family."

"That's the funny part," Brand grinned at him. "Turns out heaven's dropout is Samuel Campbell. Your father's cousin's uncle's cousin."

Mark's head shot up in surprise at the revelation of the first sentence while his mind still tried to wrap itself around the complexity of the second. "The Winchesters are Campbells?"

Brand nodded. "Yeah, part of your clan, apparently. John Winchester didn't speak much about his wife but we did some digging and she was Mary Campbell, Samuel's daughter."

"Which makes you his family." Bodger stated the obvious.

Mark stared silently at the three older men as he mulled over the proposition. This closed group thing Samuel had going certainly did have some creepy similarities to a cult and capturing monsters was definitely suspicious, but Mark wasn't sure if he could pull it off. Or if he wanted to.

He had known Brand since he was a baby. The man had been his late father's best friend and was like an uncle to him. Mark trusted him completely but Brand was pretty much the only person he did trust. The young hunter liked to work alone. Blending in and working with a group of shady hunters wasn't going to be easy.

As if reading his mind, Brand brought the subject up. "Listen, Mark," he said earnestly, leaning forward to put his elbows on the table. "I know you like to keep to yourself and this is a lot to ask, but a lot of hunters are worried about this group. You can just be your usual, silent, broody self in there and it could work in your favour. You'd be a lot less likely to trip yourself up and get caught in a lie." He smirked at the young hunter. "And if they asked around about you," he added with a shrug, "they'd hear that you were an antisocial ass from anyone who's ever met you."

Mark sat back with a sigh, knowing he would never refuse a request from Brand. "Who else knows about this?" he asked.

"Just me, Bodger, and Harnell here," he assured him. "We'll keep it that way."

Mark gave each of the two strangers each a long, look. "You trust them?" he asked Brand frankly, not bothering with subtlety.

Brand nodded. "With my life," he said gravely. 'And yours."

A week later, Mark found himself staring up at a cold-faced Sam Winchester.

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